


Wedding day

by LadyoftheWoods



Series: Life After the Almost End of Everything [3]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 05:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21351145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods
Summary: Ineffable wedding fluff.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Life After the Almost End of Everything [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550209
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	Wedding day

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation of GO work!

It was a crisp, fall day, exactly the weather one might expect for this time of year, strangely exactly so. The leaves were starting to turn, the apples were ripe, the pumpkins were nearly grown, and a cool breeze blew through the small, quiet, town.  
At least it was a quiet town, until a black Bentley blaring Queen skidded in, going far too fast. Still, it almost miraculously didn’t hit anyone or anything, and squealed harmlessly to a stop outside a quaint English cottage.  
The not quite demon, not quite angel, stepped out of the car and ran a hand through his auburn hair, looking unusually ruffled. Usually he’d be waiting on his angel to extricate himself from the vehicle, grumbling about his reckless driving, despite the fact that they’d only actually hit someone one time. Crowley didn’t count that, anyway, it’d been fated to happen.  
Today they’d opted to take separate transportation to the cottage. It was a special day, after all, one that sent a flurry of carnivorous butterflies fluttering through his chest and eating away at his stomach.  
“Crowley! Glad to see you got here in one piece.” Anathema opened the door, eyes bright and amused smile playing across her lips. Out of habit, Crowley scowled, though the witch could tell he didn’t mean it.  
“Is-“  
“Aziraphale’s already in the orchard, waiting. He got here rather early. He looks as flustered as you look nervous. Newt’s keeping him company.” She replied, knowing what he was going to ask. Crowley chuckled.  
“Not going to pretend I didn’t expect that. You mind straightening me up a bit? I could miracle it, but… well, I’m not entirely sure I’d do it right that way, either.” He smiled wryly. Anathema stepped forwards, tugging at his coat, straightening his cuffs, retying his tie and fixing his collar.  
“There.” Anathema hesitated a moment, looking up at the lanky demon. He was usually so smooth, seeing him this tense was almost unheard of. “you’ll do fine, Crowley.” She said softly. The demon caught her eye, nodding once in thanks, before letting out a nervous laugh.  
“Right. Well, only one way to find out, isn’t there?” 

Aziraphale was back behind the house. They’d secured the use of a small apple orchard for the occasion. A bit ironic, a bit nostalgic, he supposed. It was so similar, yet so different from where they’d first met each other. Where everything started. Tadfield was where it all almost ended, but… well, it was the start of something new, too. Something better.  
He was standing under an arch made of living branches. They twined up and around from the ground, leafy vines woven through the branches, small violet flowers blooming across it. Newt was chattering away, no doubt trying to distract him from his nerves, to no avail. He barely heard him. The sun was warm against his back, pleasantly so, but he was barely aware of it. His focus was taken away by the small shift in his soul, letting him know Crowley was here, a moment before the demon appeared over the hill.  
The music was soft, echoing from nowhere in particular, a miracle of Crowley’s own. Aziraphale recognized the low chords as “Can’t help falling in love with you” and smiled softly.  
He straightened, hands clasped before him as Crowley walked down the path, their makeshift aisle, Anathema at his side. The light made his hair shimmer like living flames, his eyes bright and unhidden, looking more formal than Aziraphale had ever seen him in a dark, perfectly tailored suit, and it took his breath away.  
He could tell he was having the same effect on Crowley, based on the slight hesitation in his step, the widening of his eyes, the racing of his heart that Aziraphale could feel even from here.  
The light framed Aziraphale’s head like a halo, his white tipped hair blazing like holy light, his white suit fitted, his bow tie a light blue that matched his eyes.  
He was so wonderfully perfect.  
Crowley stopped before Aziraphale, turning to face him, eyes alight with joy and the slightest hint of fear, which Aziraphale eased with a small smile and a quick hello.  
“We are gathered today to witness the union between these two ethereal entities. We join them in their love and laughter, their struggles and sorrows, their history and their futures. Aziraphale?” They’d decided Anathema should do the ceremony. They couldn’t exactly go to a priest or a church, after all, but Anathema’s status as witch was good enough for them. Besides, Crowley had argued, if She wanted to split hairs after all this She could very well show up and disrupt the ceremony Herself. The angel took a breath, centering himself. Then he nodded at Anathema, clearing his throat once.  
“Right. I, Angel Aziraphale, Principality of Heaven and Guardian of the Eastern Gate, do swear my love and life to you. I promise to stand by your side, to banish your nightmares, to fight alongside you against anything that comes our way. I promise to hold you closest and dearest to my heart until the end of eternity, and beyond. I promise to never, never, let you go.” He smiled, voice breaking at the end of his vows, eyes tearing up.  
“Don’t cry, angel, if you cry I can’t hold it together.” Crowley muttered, causing Aziraphale to let out a laugh, though it did nothing to hold back his tears. He reached forwards, behind Crowley’s ear, a ring appearing in his fingers as he drew them back. Crowley rolled his eyes, grin splitting his face.  
“Of all the times for a magic trick, angel…” Crowley trailed off as Aziraphale took his hand, slipping the ring onto his finger.  
“There’s always time for a magic trick.” Aziraphale replied, smiling as Crowley examined the ring. It was a simple, golden band that shimmered like his halo, and was shaped like his wings, inlaid with a pearl between the two wings. But most importantly, most amazingly, it was infused with the angel’s essence. Made of the stuff, really. It told him where the angel was, what he was feeling, it filled him with his warmth and love, the pure sense of him. More than that, it was an extension of Aziraphale, of his soul and his very being, more precious than any gemstone in existence. Crowley caught the angel’s hand, holding it as Anathema looked to him next.  
“I, former Archangel Raphael of Heaven, Demon Crowley, Serpent of Eden, do swear my love and life to you. I have loved you for 6000 years, and swear to love you until the end of eternity and beyond. I swear everything I am and everything I ever was to you. I swear to protect and defend you from any harm that comes our way, to stand by your side no matter what, to cherish you and all your light every moment of every day. Angel mine, forever.” He slid a ring onto his angel’s finger. It shimmered dark ebony, shaped like a serpent, a yellow garnet gleaming in its eye. It too, held his essence, and he saw his angel’s eyes widen at the feel of it.  
It was a dangerous thing, giving away a bit of yourself as they had to each other. It was essentially a piece of their soul. It could be used to summon, to banish, to hurt, basically to do anything the owner desired to whomever they held a piece of. But Crowley hadn’t hesitated for a second, and Aziraphale could feel the demon’s endless faith and love and hope radiating off him now.  
“By earth, air, wind and fire, I now pronounce you sworn and bound.” Anathema declared, entwining her hand in Newt’s. “You may now kiss your eternal partner.”  
Before Crowley had a chance, Aziraphale swept the demon into his arms, dipping him dramatically as he kissed him deeply, losing himself in the honey warmth of his lips, the shine of his love, and for a moment they were lit up by a ray of light that shone directly from heaven, before they both lost their balance and toppled onto the ground, Aziraphale on top of Crowley.  
“Angel…” Crowley breathed through his laughter, leaning back against his arms as Aziraphale rolled off of him to sit beside him. “What on earth was that?”  
“You always surprise me. It was about time I got back at you, dearest.” Aziraphale answered, twining his hands through Crowley’s hair, kissing him deeply once more, until they were both gasping for breath, faces wet with tears of joy, lost in delirious happiness. Anathema and Newt cheered, making Crowley roll his eyes as he got to his feet, reaching out to give his angel a hand up before giving a few embellished bows to the “crowd”. He ignored the whispered giggles coming from nearby bushes, no doubt Adam and The Them.  
“Well. You two catch up with us in the house, when you’re ready. We’ve got plenty of wine and plenty of cake.” Anathema teased, heading back to the cottage with Newt in tow.  
“Congrads, you two! Bout time, I say!” Newt shouted back to them, winking.  
“He’s one to talk.” Crowley scoffed, smiling as Aziraphale wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him close. Crowley returned the embrace, sighing as he rested his head in Aziraphale’s silk soft curls. For a moment, they were content to just be, to just feel the other there, aglow with the knowledge that they officially belonged to only each other now, though they’d both known it in their hearts long ago.  
Crowley reached up, plucking a bright red apple from the tree. Funny, how it always came back to that, that a simple fruit could lead to all of this in the first place. He had once felt a bit guilty for getting Adam and Eve kicked out of Eden, but looking around now, it was obvious that it had been meant to happen.  
“Tempt you to a bite?” Crowley asked absent mindedly, not quite realizing what he was asking. Had he posed such a question in the past, no doubt the angel would have said no, that lingering shred of mistrust still buzzing through his mind. In fact, the angel had altogether avoided apples ever since Eden, thinking it in poor taste.  
Now, however, Aziraphale grinned, leaning forwards and biting deeply into the fruit. All the while his eyes never left Crowley’s, who’s ears were now burning red in the most endearing fashion. After all, Aziraphale thought, there never was an apple that wasn’t worth the trouble you got into for eating it.  
Really, if Crowley had taught him anything, it was that the trouble was half the fun.


End file.
